


Iron Gambit

by Creeper_Keaton



Category: Strange Magic - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Family Bonding, Fighting, Frustrated/angry Bog, Gen, Just too perilous, Magic, Perilous, World Jump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creeper_Keaton/pseuds/Creeper_Keaton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You want advice? Well, seeing how you didn't listen before, I think it's time I took matters into my own hands."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>The mirror clouded, and with a jolt Bog's world went black.</em></p><p> <br/>There have always been legends surrounding creatures of magic, and they all say the same; never offend, never disrespect, never anger.</p><p>Too bad the Almighty Bog King is so very good at all three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iron Gambit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EndoratheWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/gifts).



> I wanted to give writing the characters as they were, not an AU! Hearth Heart will still go strong, but this idea had been fighting with me for too long to just ignore it anymore.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy (possibly) the only Dagda-Bog bonding fic!

# All In

###### 

Sunlight poured over the dew-laden fields, catching stray droplets and turning them into glints of crystalline fire. The fresh spring grass bowed with the weight, bright and cheerful flowers peeking tall overtop. The air was alive with sounds; birds and insects awake with the new spring in the Fairy Fields. Even the air was sweet after the final dregs of snow had melted away. In all, a better day could not have been asked for.

It was _disgusting._

Bog was sorely tempted to curl his lip at the cheerful scene ahead; there was a lovely pile of moss waiting for him back home, and only hours of discomfort ahead. But the new dawn light reminded him that, yes, he did care deeply for the namesake of that horrid hour. He'd promised Dawn he would be there, and be there he would.

That didn't mean he was suffering alone, of course not. A small contingency of goblins huddled close behind, ones less sensitive to new light. All were on foot, himself included. Flying in the early hours could be dangerous with hungry birds about. The fairies had taught them that bright coloured wings often meant a bird's snack could very well come with a side of sword. His peoples' dragonfly mounts did not have the boon of those bright colours. No, far too dangerous.

Rolling his shoulders back, neck cracking to the side, he looked back at the group. "We move out, we stay close. If you wander, follow the annoyingly cheerful singing to th' party. And if _one_ of ye so much as complains..." Leaning down, bent at the waist so he could truly look into the eyes of his shorter subjects, "Ah'll personally skin ye and feed yer carcass to the slugs."

Turning and taking his first step into the Fields, he couldn't help the mutter of, "if I have to go so do you."

###### 

Marianne was hovering on the edge of the festivities and if anyone asked, she was totally helping. Flitting back and forth in a way that negated her devote training she craned her head higher to peer off into the Fields. The Dark Forest was a dark horizon on the edge of green, but there was no malice there anymore. No, even if she couldn't see it she could clearly picture the blushing pink primroses that scattered on the division border.

A year ago a certain menacing King had been adamant on removing them. Now, he had a bit of a change of heart. Namely, he had _her_ heart.

She was proud to say she held his.

"Marianne! There you are! Dawn is searching for you, my dear." She looked back, quirking an eyebrow at her father as he hovered awkwardly. The last few years had been quite generous to his waistline, but the sudden suitors his girls had picked had seen him chasing after them more often. It was nice to see him a-wing.

"By 'looking' do you mean 'hunting'? I love her, I do, but I am **not** wearing that dress. Besides, Bog should be here soon." She turned back towards the border, but that didn't stop her from seeing the flash of discomfort on her father's face. Even after all this time he was still unhappy with it.

"Well then, I suppose- I'll just tell her I couldn't find you, then?"

"Tell her she needs to not micromanage so much. It's not her wedding day, just the engagement annoucement." The words were teasing but she knew how important the day was. Dawn and Sunny would stand before the people, fairy, elf and pixie, and announce that they were forever more each others'. Marianne had thought once that she'd never be able to look upon such ceremonies with any kind of good faith; she knew the secret of how badly things could go. But her sister and Sunny, they made a pair as vibrant as daylight. Sickeningly ironic but there you have it.

Her father, still behind her and most likely trying to sneak a peek at the soon-arriving Bog King, was no doubt about to reply when that very thing occured. Bog seemed a bit grouchy, and no wonder with how covered in pollen he and his group was. The more _moist_ subjects of his were veritably glued with the stuff, whereas Bog himself was powdered as pretty as a bride.

Marianne snorted, snapping his attention to her and causing him to level a rather noteworthy glare. She gave him no time to comment, wings folding in as she dove straight for him. A year had given her plenty of practice to angle her body correctly, hit him at full speed without smashing into the sharp angles of his shoulders (or elbows. Or hips) as she hugged him. His wings buzzed manically at the extra weight of her arms around his neck, but like her he was used to this. One hand he kept curled around his staff, but the other spanned her back, warmly holding her in place to his heart.

With her arms laced around his neck as they were her legs were far from the ground, leaving them free to start a tiny excited kicking. Her nose pressed into the column of his throat, chin hooking on the edge of his carapace as she chased the warmer, softer part of him. "I missed you."

His hand twitched; she could feel the claws ever-so-slightly prick through her tunic. In response, wordless, he dipped his head until his jaw brushed against her temple, face buried in her hair. She was fairly certain he drew a breath, and if she didn't know just how much he would reek of pollen she'd do the same. An exhale, and a quiet tumble of words followed. "Missed ye too, you violent thing. Winters are far too long."

She'd have been happy to stay clinging to him like some demented carry pack, just an accessory to brighten the dour king's attire, when she heard her father's clear voice calling from above.

Of course he'd interrupt.

"Hang on dad!" Bog flinched at her all but yelling in his ear, and she dropped a quick peck to the pointed tip of it in apology. "Sorry, looks like I've gotta fly. Before you ask, your mother got here about four hours ago and has regaled us all on goblin cuisine. You may not be happy, but you'll be well fed."

"M'always happy around you."

"And I might even believe that if you didn't look so sullen saying it." She patted his cheek lightly with a grin before launching off of him to track down her sister. She noted her father giving Bog the briefest of greetings, as minimal as he could respectfully.

He'd have to suck it up and accept Bog sooner rather than later. With Dawn marrying an elf, stigmas had already been broken. With traditions and norms being revised, Marianne found she was willing to take another stab at this whole marriage thing. She had her eye on a lanky, pointy goblin king, after all.

###### 

The party was well enough, he supposed. People tolerated him, there was no screaming, and a few elves (and one prodigious fairy) started conversation. Dawn had, of course, hugged him. In return, as a congratulations, he had actually (sort of) hugged her (off the record) back. The girl looked like she might have exploded from excitement. Sunny he gave a nod, as well as an invitation to the Forest whenever he cared to go. The elf had made it all the way to his castle without dying once, he surely deserved a chance to explore the lands he so boldly trespassed.

But all that was behind him, and now he stood awkwardly to the side clutching a cup, woven of small leaf strips and only half-filled with liquid. He _wanted_ to find Marianne, _wanted_ to be at her side in singing or flying, possibly even dancing if he consumed any more elven beer. But his heart couldn't get in the mood, and he felt truly guilty for that. It was Dawn's day, possibly her happiest one, and he was sulking in a proverbial corner.

It wasn't that Marianne was too busy, or the sun was too bright. It was more... King Dagda. The man had put up a good front, a hell of a smile for his youngest daughter, but even from afar it was easy to see how stiff his body was, how tense. Bog had heard tidbits here and there, some folk of the Fields less than happy with their princess' choice in suitors. There was a concerned babble about Marianne being the different one, the unexpected one. With both princesses now stepping off the beaten path, where did that leave them? Dagda seemed to embody those fears, and from where he stood Bog could see the man getting Marianne to chat with a few male fairies.

Even though she easily rebuffed them, it still stung. He loved Marianne, loved her more than the smell of wet soil in a warm summer rain or the burning colours of autumn, but he wanted-

Here was where he usually stopped himself, halted that train of thought because it was too much. There was a certain expectation to the throne, not so much recognized in the Dark Forest but still preferred, and that was lineage. He'd known this for as long as he'd had the throne, even longer really. But with Marianne... Swallowing the remaining beer he let his eyes wander to the dusky purple wings. With Marianne, he didn't want _lineage_. He wanted a family.

And even if it was unsavoury, Dagda would be a part of that family.

"Weellll! Look at who's over here! Get tired of scaring the common folk?" His woven cup was crushed in hand at the appearance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, but she did little more than snort inelegantly at his rising ire. "Oh calm down. I'm on a probation. No magic unless someone asks."

"Then ye're jus' here for Dawn, aye?"

" _Ob_ viously. Why, do you need a spell?"

He growled at her teasing tone, turning away as his shoulders flared slightly. He could see the effervescent glow of her circling behind him, and suddenly she was whispering right into his ear.

"Or maybe advice? Daddy dearest is giving you a rough time, huh?"

Jerking so hard he stumbled, he threw a weak glare. "Ye- you stay out of this! Ah don't want yer help."

"But what if I told you I knew a way that would endear you to him? Give you that closeness you want with Marianne's dear old dad. I mean, he's all she's got now that Dawn's been snatched up." She picked at her nails as he felt an internal war waging. Finally he growled, shoulders flaring fully.

"Ah want _advice_ , **not** a spell, d'ye understand me?"

She squealed and he was fairly certain there were fireworks. Small ones, because people barely glanced over. Only a small number of them even registered the Bog King conversing with Plum.

She waved her hands elaborately, a tiny gilded mirror magicking out of thin air. At his baffled exclamation she waved her hands dismissively. "Calm down, it's just a Seeing Mirror. Let's see what's on the menu, shall we? This nifty little gadget will show you exactly how to fix your problems! Grab hold!"

He shuffled just that much closer, not noting the very man he was concerning himself with storming towards them with a thunderous expression. Hand carefully cradling the back of the mirror, nearly swallowing it it was so small, he leaned closer, eyes narrowed at the cloudly surface. Plum giggled, a darker sound than he was used to, as her finger traced the edge of the reflective piece.

"You just want advice, then? Well, I'm a bit torn, seeing how you didn't listen so very well before." A sharp yell, Dagda, of _What are you doing speaking with her get away_ was over-ridden. "It's tiring, always giving and giving when people don't even care. I think it's time I took matters into my own hands."

The mirror shifted, and Dagda grabbed his arm just as the surface yawned into a great blackness. It filled his vision as his world yanked to the side.

###### 

You keep singing in the background, Bog. _Insulted, disrespected..._

Anyway, thank you all for joining me on a new adventure, and let's hope it's an enjoyable one!


End file.
